


Forgiveness and Trust

by TallowCat



Category: Bravely Default (Video Game) & Related Fandoms
Genre: Gen, is 1am and its scattered
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-17
Updated: 2017-07-17
Packaged: 2018-12-03 09:42:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11529630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TallowCat/pseuds/TallowCat
Summary: It was easy enough to say that you forgive and trust. A human, if anything, is a liar, not that Janne would ever think Yew a liar. The poor boy had too much love in that small heart of his.





	Forgiveness and Trust

Forgiveness and trust were both things you could easily say you hold for another.

Forgiveness was easy to say you have given, and trust equally so.  
They intertwined together, but you are never needed to give both at once, not both ever.

To forgive and to trust, while close, were not together.  
To understand and forgive the Empire’s actions was one thing, to fully come to trust those who’d held it high was another.

But, as many things, it is easy to say them both, to smile and preach, but to never truly feel them.  
Humans, among many things, are liars.

Though Janne would not call Yew a liar for what he says.  
In many ways he probably does trust and forgive them, just not fully, hardly fully. It could not be blamed upon the poor boy for not being able to welcome the people who’d made distrust swirl in his stomach for days.  
A friend and a father figure, two people he, at one point, would trust above all else, had left the bitter taste of bile on his tongue.

To simply step back into his life and act as though all were well would be to not be human. Trust is not shattered and repaired so simply.   
Yew may not have forgiven them as he said he did, it wasn’t hard to catch the looks, the glances, the flinches. Yew was a kind boy, one with too much love and trust in his heart.  
And maybe it was simply guilt that made Janne angry.

Returning to trust was something Janne had not thought of. Success or death had been all that he’d truly thought of. He’d shattered Yew’s trust without a thought, yet now the pieces of it cut his hands when he fumbled to stick it back together, a desperate attempt to fix what he’d broken.  
Almost like a child.

Maybe Yew had forgiven them. You could understand yet not agree. But Janne doubted he’d fully forgiven the personal hurt, even if he hadn’t realised it. Maybe Yew had forgiven the Empire and their actions, but maybe he hadn’t forgiven Janne for stringing his heart along for so long.  
Maybe Yew flinched at the hand on his shoulder because he couldn’t let himself be so trustful?

It made Janne angry, not that he truly knew why he was so angry. Maybe it was the pool of guilt that swam in his stomach when stringing his heart along for so long.  
Maybe Yew flinched at the hand on his shoulder because he couldn’t let himself be so trustful?

It made Janne angry, not that he truly knew why he was so angry. Maybe it was the pool of guilt that swam in his stomach when Yew would fumble around when telling stories of school days.  
Or maybe it was the jealousy that had begun to bloom in him when he saw how happy Yew was with others.

It was selfish of him, in many ways, to want Yew back to his side again. There was still plenty of anger within himself at the family Yew bore the name of, but he’d chosen, with varying success, to not push it onto Yew.  
Janne was very good at holding onto grudges, holding onto old feelings and letting them fester before they spilled out of his mouth in violent spats that made him want to vomit.

Janne had learned a lot over his life, not to say it was close to ending, but sometimes he felt that Yew had learned more, learned better than he ever would. Yew could forgive while he let it grow to hate, Yew could understand while he simply spat and scowled.  
Yew loved while he isolated himself until the shards of broken trust cut deeper when he realised shattered glass could never be free of the cracks that broke it.

That he wouldn’t be able to properly hold Yew’s trust in his hands.  
That he, as someone Yew had trusted, was the one who’d crushed that trust so simply.

Yew was a dork, someone who fumbled with things and was so full of heart it was hard not to smile.  
Yew was a boy who’d opened his heart to people when he’d had little.  
Yew was the one to spill his fears into Janne’s shoulder at night when the shadows stretched just that small bit too close to his bed.  
Yew was a boy who’d grinned up at Nikolai as if his own son, being treated as such.  
Yew was a boy who’d thought them family when he’d had little.

Yew was a boy who clutched his journal close and hid in his bed to not face the world.

The flinches, the tensing, the stiff actions. They were the signs of distrust that Janne and Nikolai had instilled in him.

Trust was a slow build. It wasn’t the same as starting from nothing. It was full of announcements of being there, of knowing when to stop, of knowing the tells of Yew’s sadness.  
But a build must always start slow.

Yew said he forgave them, forgave Janne for the fears he had caused, despite that horribly sorrowful look that made Janne want to spill his stomach. Yew often spoke of forgiveness, sometimes aloud, sometimes in the way he’d allow Janne to simply nudge his hand without a complaint.  
He forgave Nikolai by not pulling away, by slowly learning to trust the man’s words again.

It wasn’t full trust.  
The nights Yew would awaken shaking in fear from the two people he knew, eyes wide in a fear that showed he couldn’t place the time. The nightmares of their disgusting betrayal made it feel like a flower had clogged his throat in petals of bile.

But trust was slow.

“It’s a nice day,” Yew hadn’t flinched when he’d appeared.  
“Yeah.”  
“We should do something, it’ll be…nice.”  
“It will.”

Trust was a slow build. But Yew allowing him a place beside him once more was enough for Janne to feel like it was working.  
Even if he’d never repair the cracks he’d made.

**Author's Note:**

> i am garbo


End file.
